


make me

by boyslightup



Category: Monty Python Live at the Hollywood Bowl, Monty Python's Flying Circus
Genre: Alternate Version of the Travel Agent Sketch, Crack Treated Seriously, First Kiss, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Specifically the Hollywood Bowl Version
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:40:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29813406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boyslightup/pseuds/boyslightup
Summary: Mr Smoke-Too-Much approaches a travel agent and tells him about his holiday adventures. Mr Bounder couldn't care less about anything he has to say and wishes he would shut up. They decide to compromise.
Relationships: Mr Bounder/Mr Smoke-Too-Much
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	make me

**Author's Note:**

> this started as crack then i took it way too seriously so here you go

From the moment the man walks through the front door, Mr Bounder eyes him up. He only gives him quick glances, looking up from his magazines every now and then to survey him talking to the secretary. They’re out of earshot, but he tries his best to make out any keywords.

“Mr Bounder!” The secretary raises her voice, catching his full attention. She points the customer towards him, and he strides over to him, arms swaying by his side. “This gentleman is interested in the India Overland…”

There’s a brief ray of sunshine. He hopes he's got something better on the agenda than talking about bleeding resorts he wishes he was at.

“...and nothing else.”

Bugger. Bounder’s face falls. Clearly, this man isn’t aware of what other services the establishment provides. It doesn’t matter much, so Bounder shakes it off and gets on with his work.

Bounder grins wide and leans on the desk. This man looks nicer up close, and a hint of disappointment rang through him. It would’ve been much better to get down on his knees for him.

“Hello,” Bounder outstretches his hand, “I’m Bounder of Adventure.”

The man’s grip on his hand is firm, and he shakes it well. Up close he smells like expensive spiced cologne, and Bounder swears he’s seen that suit in the fashion bit of last week's Times. He guesses one who’s interested in a holiday like this would have to have money.

“Oh, hello, my name is Smoke-Too-Much.”

At first, the name seems like a joke, but there’s a dead serious look in his eyes. It doesn’t stop Bounder from making a joke about it that goes right over Smoke-Too-Much’s head. He explains the joke, and finally, this guy catches on, but he isn’t too caught by it. Bounder wishes again that Smoke-Too-Much chose the other service.

“So you’re interested in one of our holidays, are you?” Bounder picks up a magazine and flicks through a couple of pages, searching for the one about the India Overland. He folds the spine and drops it down on the bench.

“Yes, that’s right,” Smoke-Too-Much grins, “I saw your advert in the blassified ads.”

Bounder looks up. “The what?” He corrects Smoke-Too-Much when he repeats himself, which only grants him a quick rundown of his speech impediment sob story he couldn't care less about. There’s still disappointment lingering in him. He picks up another magazine off the bench, and then another. “Now then, about the holiday. We have-”

“Well I’ve been on package tours many times before, so your advert really baught my eye.”

Leaning closer to Smoke-Too-Much and pointing to the right article, Bounder smiles and nods. He’s done this a million times before. “Well what we offer-”

“What’s the point of going abroad if you’re just going to be treated like a sheep?” Smoke-Too-Much asks, his question followed by sentence after sentence. Bounder nods along and tries to interject, redirecting him to the options for the India Overland, but he won’t shut up.

It feels rude to tell him to shut up, and he won’t admit to himself that he can think of many other ways to shut him up if the situation were any different. He’s only the resident travel agent to distract from the business going on upstairs. Besides, the place isn’t even a proper travel agency, anyway.

For a split second Smoke-Too-Much shuts up, and Bounder sighs in relief. He agrees to whatever the hell Smoke-Too-Much finished saying (he wasn’t paying attention anymore), then flips to another page. “Now what we have is-”

“Every Thursday night there’s bloody cabaret in the bar…” Smoke-Too-Much drones on and on again.

“Will you please be quiet?” Bubbling with outrage, Bounder pulls himself away and takes a deep sigh. Every word Smoke-Too-Much adds only fuels his impatience. Between sentences, he continues to plead for him to be quiet, but he doesn’t, and instead raises his voice higher.

By the time Smoke-Too-Much starts singing and dancing, Bounder has had enough.

“Shut up!” Bounder yells. He prepares himself for Smoke-Too-Much to keep going, peering over to the secretary who is too concerned with her compact mirror to notice in case he needs backup. His mouth is already open to form another, even louder ‘shut up’ until Smoke-Too-Much says one thing.

Casual but firm, Smoke-Too-Much raises his eyebrows at Bounder. “Make me.”

The words take a moment to register. Bounder is still enraged, everything Smoke-Too-Much is saying flying over his head. When he asks him to repeat those last two words, he stands idle, staring at him.

“I said,” Smoke-Too-Much slows down but maintains the firm tone of his voice, “Make me.”

Bounder swallows the lump that has formed in his throat. He feels hot under the collar and he grips the edge of the bench. His interpretation of what he said has to be incorrect, it's likely he is asking for trouble, but when Smoke-Too-Much repeats himself, he guesses he’s got it right.

“Well, spending four days on the tarmac at Luton airport on a five-day package tour with nothing to eat but-”

Bounder gives in and leans forward, reaching for Smoke-Too-Much’s tie and pulling him in by it. There’s a split second of hesitation, but then desperate for him to finally shut up, Bounder kisses him. He doesn’t let go, embracing the silence while still gripping his tie so Smoke-Too-Much can’t pull away too far.

When he finally breaks the kiss, Bounder sighs in relief. He keeps his eyes closed for a few moments then opens them again as slow as he can, and Smoke-Too-Much is smiling. He expects him to start droning on again, but he doesn’t. The silence is unnerving, but it gives him time to observe him up close.

The look in Smoke-Too-Much’s eyes is cheeky, the smug smile on his face condescending. Bounder’s frustration has subsided, and it’s transformed into passive humiliation. He doesn’t even know what to be humiliated by.

“I didn’t know this wasn’t just a travel agency until I got here,” Mr Smoke-Too-Much puts his hands in his pockets and shrugs. He looks down at the array of travel magazines then back up at bounder. “But I first had my suspicions when I found your advertisement on the bit of the classified ads with all the ones about, well, you know.” He looks up and lowers his voice. “ _ That _ .”

Bounder purses his lips and leans his elbows on the bench. The cogs turn over in his mind about the situation, and it starts to make sense. “Oh, I get the picture.”

“Then when I approached the secretary over there,” Smoke-Too-Much points his thumb behind him, “she asked if I’d like a blowjob! I thought she meant from her, she’s beautiful of course, but then she suggested it was from you and-”

Bounder pauses. “Are you insinuating that you came over here and struck up this ridiculous conversation just to waste my time? And that you had no intention to actually book a holiday?”

Smoke-Too-Much coughs to clear his throat. “I did at first. I already told you that I’ve been on many package tours before. It wouldn’t hurt to go on another, especially not after all the trouble I’ve had on my most recent one. Do you know what it’s like to-”

The fear of Smoke-Too-Much starting on another tangent drives Bounder mad. After groaning and holding his head in his hands, he gives in to his feelings. “Oh, bloody hell.” He kisses him again, this time resting his hand on the back of his neck. For a moment he looks over his shoulder and over to the secretary who gives him quick glances and a grin. She tilts her head up, motioning towards the direction of the staircase.

Bounder, between kisses, asks Smoke-Too-Much if he’d like to go upstairs. Behind his back, he crosses his spare fingers.

“Do I have to pay?” Smoke-Too-Much kisses Bounder’s jaw.

Bounder sighs and chuckles. “Not if you’re going to shut up.”


End file.
